


Noxian Strength

by volare_via



Category: League of Legends
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 16:50:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volare_via/pseuds/volare_via
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ezreal meets Darius. Things escalate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noxian Strength

Their first encounter is in an isolated corridor in the middle of the Institute.

Ezreal has heard that the Hand of Noxus has joined the League, but he hasn't bothered to introduce himself. Ezreal can never be bothered to introduce himself, especially not to Noxians. He's walking down the hallway when a mountain of a person rounds the corner. Ezreal stops in his tracks. He has never seen such a large human being before. The Hand of Noxus, in return, shows no change upon his face. He stares Ezreal down as he approaches, but as the distance drops below two meters, the blond boy fails to hold his interest and his eyes once again become locked straight ahead.

Ezreal doesn't bother to conceal the fact that he is staring. As Darius approaches, he takes in the confident posture, the firm grip on his weapon, the weathered scar running from his forehead to his cheek. As Darius departs, Ezreal takes in the several inches of exposed arm beneath the viciously spiked pauldrons, the scarlet cape billowing behind him as he takes his long, confident strides, the clinking of his armor as his footfalls land heavy on a floor as stony as his face.

Ezreal finally remembers how to breathe.

Their second encounter is on Summoner's rift.

Darius faces off against Jayce in the top lane, and Jayce doesn't die to his opponent a single time. Ezreal doesn't pay attention to Darius's minion kill count or items, and since he hasn't killed a single member of their team, Ezreal assumes he isn't doing well. Ezreal signals his approach from the mid lane and his intent to ambush the Hand of Noxus, his intent to help his friend take down his opponent.

Ezreal crouches in the tall river grass, getting soaked to the knees as he waits for the perfect time to strike, when suddenly Jayce frantically signals him to fall back. Ezreal whirls around to meet the cryptic gaze of Sion, who has followed him up from the mid lane. For barely a second, Ezreal is too terrified to move, but he recovers quickly and blinks through time and space into the top lane, away from Sion, a homing bolt of magic leaving the amulet on his gauntlet as he does so. Unfortunately, he is so focused on getting away from Sion that he walks into a wall - only to turn and see that it is, in fact, Darius, and Ezreal's homing bolt has barely scratched the enormous Noxian.

Jayce leaps heroically into the fray, knocking Sion back into the river and trying to give Ezreal time to flee to their team's turret, but crippling pain just below Ezreal's ribcage slows him down. He looks down to see that he is bleeding profusely. He urges his summoner to get him away from Darius, but his summoner sadly informs him that they have already used Flash. Something glints in front of Ezreal and before he realizes what's happening, the wind is knocked out of him as he is yanked backward and spun around to face his attacker.

Ezreal looks up at Darius's stone cold face. The Noxian is all business as he whirls his axe around himself, allowing its blade to slice through Ezreal's clothing and deep into the skin of his stomach. His clothes are soaked with blood now. He knows he isn't getting away, and Jayce is too preoccupied battling Sion to help him. He looks defiantly up into Darius's face, concealing his own pain as his opponent raises the tremendous axe above his head with both hands. Ezreal doesn't close his eyes; instead, he watches the axe fly toward his skull at dizzying speed, and for the split second before darkness envelops him, agony ravages his body.

Ezreal feels with stinging clarity the exact moment when he is cleaved in two.

Their third encounter is on the bridge across the Howling Abyss.

Ezreal jogs warily beside Darius as they approach the darkened brush in the center of the bridge. He watches the Noxian take long, confident strides, knowing full well what he is capable of, and hopes he will be as formidable an opponent to the enemy as he was to Ezreal the last time they met.

The match begins in silence. No enemies are in sight. Only Darius and Ezreal dare to sit at the far edge of the brush, the rest of their teammates content to sit far away and huddle together for warmth. The Noxian shows no signs of being bothered by the air's frigid temperature. The Piltovian wills himself not to think of what he'd like to be doing to keep warm.

Suddenly, a Yordle comes into view. It's a small, blue-skinned girl with white pigtails, and she brandishes her hammer proudly as she waddles alone into the bush. The moment she enters, Darius deals a crippling blow with his axe. The target is small on such a small body, but he has managed to nick an artery in her thigh, and she begins hemorrhaging. As soon as she realizes what she has walked into, her summoner Flashes her back toward her turret, but Ezreal sees the familiar glint of Noxian steel as Darius hooks his merciless axe around the girl's neck and forces her back into the fray. All alone and with no escape left, she is forced to merely attempt to run as Darius whirls his axe around his body, leaving a deep cut in her back. All the while, Ezreal has been unloading damage from his amulet, and with one final push he blinks forward and fires a bolt at her. The rest of Ezreal's team hasn't even had time to reach the fight before the announcer informs them that first blood has been drawn. Darius glances at Ezreal and gives him an emotionless nod.

Ezreal feels his heart swelling like a balloon.

Their fourth encounter is in the same hallway as before, at the same time as before.

Ezreal is on his way to visit a friend when Darius rounds the corner up ahead. This time, Darius is the one who stops in his tracks. His face is as expressionless as ever. But he's staring. Ezreal walks on; he has someplace to be, after all. But he can see Darius out of the corner of his eye, can feel the Noxian's gaze locked onto his person, can feel those cold eyes boring into his back as he continues on.

Ezreal tries to suppress the smug satisfaction surfacing in his brain.

Their fifth encounter is in Darius's room.

Ezreal's heart pounds against his ribs as he raises a gloved fist to knock on the door. He feels less and less sure with each passing second until he hears footsteps approaching from the other side and the door finally swings open. There stands Darius, wearing a simple cloth shirt and simple cloth pants instead of the armor Ezreal has grown accustomed to. He still wears his boots, the explorer notes.

Darius does not speak. His gaze bores into Ezreal's as he waits for his visitor to announce his business. Ezreal, voice strong and confident despite his rushing adrenaline, explains that he never got a chance to introduce himself. He expects Darius to say he is not interested in introductions, to turn him away and slam the door in his face, to grow angry, even. He expects everything except what actually happens. Darius invites him in.

No sooner has the door closed behind him than Ezreal feels cold steel at his throat, and the accusations are pouring forth from Darius's lips. He asks if Ezreal is a spy, and the explorer declares that he is not. He asks if Ezreal seeks to dethrone the Grand General, and the explorer insists that he has no such intentions. He asks if Ezreal has been sent to assassinate him, and the explorer tells him that that's ridiculous.

"Then why so afraid?"

Ezreal forces himself to chuckle. He forces his voice to remain calm and steady as he protests that he isn't afraid at all. Darius says he can sense Ezreal's fear. Ezreal gulps. He explains that he isn't afraid, just a little nervous to be meeting someone so famous. Someone he's heard so many grisly tales of, someone he admires in a twisted sort of way. It's not exactly a lie.

Darius pauses. Ezreal reaches up slowly to push the axe away from his neck, and Darius lets him.

"Would you care for a drink?"

Ezreal accepts without hesitation.

They spend upwards of two hours growing redder in the face as they swap more and more outlandish stories. Ezreal discovers that Darius is very honorable, for a Noxian. Darius discovers that Ezreal is very street-smart, for a non-Noxian. By the time the liquor is gone, they've begun to enjoy each other's company. They've had the same number of drinks, but the alcohol has taken a considerably larger toll on Ezreal. His vision clouded, his judgment impaired, his instincts in full control, Ezreal rises from his chair and stumbles over to Darius's, sinking to his knees with a stupid grin on his face. Darius's mind, also slowed by the drinking but not as much, doesn't quite comprehend the explorer's intentions until the boy's hands are on his thighs.

Darius raises an eyebrow.

Ezreal takes one of Darius's hands in his own and gingerly licks the tip of his index finger. Darius tenses up but doesn't rip his hand out of Ezreal's grasp, so he repeats the action. His clear blue eyes lock onto Darius's dark Noxian ones as he envelops the entire finger with his lips, and a motion in his peripheral vision tells him that his behavior is having the intended effect. He decides to get right to business.

He drops Darius's hand and allows his hands to drift toward the front of Darius's pants where a bulge has already begun to present itself. Darius's hazy mind has repressed the instinct to push away the invasion of his personal space. Instead, his growing physical need has taken over, inviting further contact by spreading his legs so Ezreal can settle between them, which he does. He pulls on the waistband of Darius's pants, exposing the man's length.

Darius's eyes closely follow the motion of Ezreal's tongue as he slowly licks his lips.

He doesn't realize he's reaching out until his fingers are tangled in the blond hair and he discovers that that tongue is just as soft as it looks. Darius is surprised by Ezreal's skill and it vaguely occurs to him that he must have done this before, but in moments, such thoughts evaporate as Darius's mind completely surrenders to his body. He wants to watch but can't seem to keep his eyes open, so he lets them slide closed and focuses on how it feels.

He doesn't even realize he's lost control of his hands until frantic tapping on his thighs tells him Ezreal needs air. He doesn't detangle his fingers from the soft golden hair, just lets his arms go slack, and Ezreal leans back and takes a deep, gasping breath before dissolving into coughs. Tears are streaming down his cheeks and he quickly wipes them away, but he's got a big dumb grin on his face and he just looks . . .

Darius grunts and tugs on Ezreal's hair. No words are necessary.

Their sixth encounter is in Ezreal's room.

Darius knocks loudly and without hesitation. For a moment he almost feels anxious, but he uses his Noxian training to clear his mind. It's a very long time before there is any sign Ezreal is in, and Darius is preparing to knock again when the door opens a crack and then creaks open the rest of the way. There stands Ezreal, wearing the attire Darius has grown accustomed to. He's barefoot, Darius notices.

". . . What brings you here?"

His gaze is wary and his stance guarded. Darius had wondered if he would remember their last meeting at all, but it seems the exact opposite is true, and now the Noxian is wondering if visiting Ezreal was a good idea after all. In fact, he can't remember why he decided to do so in the first place.

Darius asks if he can come in. After a long moment, Ezreal steps back and opens the door wider, and the Hand of Noxus enters. The silence is deafening against Darius's eardrums as he wonders what to say. He isn't even sure what's on his own mind. He keeps his face stoic as he decides that no, this was most certainly not a good idea at all.

"I'm sorry."

Darius blinks. Those two words are all he needs to hear. He now knows exactly what Ezreal is thinking, why Ezreal is being cautious, and why he himself is here. He takes a step closer and Ezreal seems to force himself not to flinch back. Darius slowly raises a hand and Ezreal flinches away from it before realizing Darius means him no harm. He allows the Noxian to touch his face, but only for a moment, because in the next moment, he's flung his arms around Darius's neck and crushed their lips together. Darius isn't drunk this time; he has to actively fight the instinct to deliver precise blows to pressure points and disarm the attack. He convinces himself this isn't an attack. He still isn't sure where to put his hands, though.

It doesn't matter. Ezreal is the one who knows what he wants, and Darius lets him have it. In minutes Ezreal's mattress is creaking beneath them and they're both gasping for air.

Somewhere across the Institute a few hours later, Draven vaguely asks if anyone has seen his brother, and Lux shrugs, wondering where Ezreal went.


End file.
